


Carry You

by RazzleBrazzle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazzleBrazzle/pseuds/RazzleBrazzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam watches Harry carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and decides to do something about it, if only for the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> Harry and Liam were interviewed at US _X-Factor_ , and in this [video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKgPYfG8ELc), they asked Liam which of his band mates he would choose to be for a day, and whelp, this fic happened. Thanks to [jessypt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessypt/pseuds/Jessypt) and [tuesdaymidnight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight) for the beta work. All other mistakes are my own. 
> 
> This is purely fictional, etc.

 

  


It’s late by the time Harry comes back, but Liam has been on the edge of sleep for hours. His body is wound up like a coil, restlessness vibrating throughout his body. He’d given Harry the key ahead of time because he knew he wouldn’t stay in his own room. Not tonight. He hears the mechanical click of a keycard unlocking his door. 

Harry’s steps drag heavily across the carpet. He’s had a long day; they all have. It was nice to go back to the X-Factor studios and see Simon, as well as the new contestants. They were all fresh and wide eyed; the only burden on their shoulders was the anxiety of elimination. The constant pressure hadn’t settled over their bones; their days weren’t stretched thin by team members scheduling every minute, of every day. They still possessed the freedom of walking down the street in peace without someone calling their name, wanting—wanting something, anything really. 

Liam rolls over, the rumpled sheet twisting uncomfortably around his torso, and blinks his eyes into awareness, “You alright?”

He can’t see Harry, but he can feel him—feel the slope of his shoulders, the furrow in his brow. 

“‘M alright, Li. Part of the job, innit?” Harry swallows down a rough laugh.

“It shouldn’t be, no,” Liam says, as he lies back down against the pillow and twists his fingers in the sheets; it anchors him to the present. “Come to bed, yeah?”

“I will. Just want to shower first.” Harry opens the bathroom door and flicks on a light; the glow reaches just across the room to the foot of the bed. Turning around, he cocks a half smile at Liam, who’s still watching him from bed. “I won’t be long.” The door falls mostly shut, as words of comfort die on Liam’s tongue. He can hear Harry turn the water on, and the soft hum of his voice echo off the walls.

What would he have even said anyway? Sorry you had to go on another date, with another girl, surrounded by a bunch of cameras? He squeezes his eyes shut, hard enough to see spots. His thoughts race through his head: Sorry all the press you get is about your “relationships” and not the music. Sorry you carry the weight of the band. Sorry you feel a need to protect us from a life we all signed up for. 

Rationally, Liam knows they can handle whatever is thrown at them. Zayn took the brunt of the paps slurs and insults at the airport. Louis doesn’t complain (much) about what his twitter mentions look like on a daily basis. Niall attended his nephew’s christening, and the subsequent fan circus outside, but he soldiered on and made it work to see his family. 

But Harry—Harry somehow decided it was his duty to take on the headlines, to be seen out and about, so the One Direction name stayed in the papers. Liam knows he’d rather be home, but someone is always waiting for him, watching him, and speculating about him, so back out he goes, to another party, taking picture after picture, giving a little bit of his soul with each one.

Harry’s date tonight, and the subsequent press, will blow over in a couple weeks—it always does. Liam met Kendall backstage at _X-Factor_ , before she and Harry left for their dinner. She’s a sweet girl, but from a high-profile family. He meant what he said to the interviewer earlier; if he could, he would switch places with Harry, but not his Harry. No. Not the Harry from Holmes Chapel who texts his sister every day. Not the Harry who’s terrible at footie, but still plays with Louis anyway. Not the Harry who indulges Zayn when he wants to show off yet another picture of the cat he and Perrie just bought. No, Liam would do anything he could to ease the burden of being Harry Styles of One Direction, the ladies man, the lothario. 

Harry comes out of the bathroom with his towel slung low around his waist. The light illuminates him, and Liam can see the hint of script that sits just above Harry’s hipbone. He can’t read it from here, but he’s traced it with fingers, teeth, and tongue well enough to know what it says. “Might as well…” That’s been Harry’s motto for a while now, and the ink serves as a permanent reminder. Secretly, Liam hopes one day he can cover it up with something less dark and more powerful. That’ll have to wait for now. 

Harry shakes out his hair, his fringe falling in his face as he turns around to turn off the light, and drops the towel carelessly on his way to climb into bed. He scoots under the duvet and is soft and warm to the touch as he backs up against Liam’s front. 

Liam doesn’t want to ask, but he knows he should. “How was it?”

“Alright. She’s pretty funny actually. Food was good and all that.”

“Did she give you any dirt on Kanye you care to share?”

Liam knows Harry is rolling his eyes, even if he can’t see it. “Yeah, actually she did. She said for me to tell you, and I quote, ‘Liam can call himself “Yeezus Jr”’.” 

Harry’s shoulders shake as he tries to keep his laughter under control. 

“Very funny, Haz.” Liam pinches his side, and Harry squirms against him. 

“Heyyyyy, this is the thanks I get? That was a big secret you know. Was thinking of calling up _The Mirror_ and giving them an exclusive: ‘One Direction’s Liam Payne—Leaving the band for God and also Yeezus’.”

“You’re a right laugh.” Harry’s chuckles begin to fade, and he shifts around in front of Liam as he gets comfortable. 

Even though he was laughing, Liam knows he’s not settled, so he draw Harry’s tense body closer to him. “We’ve got a late start tomorrow, for once. Maybe we’ll get to sleep in.” 

Harry turns a bit to face him and blinks slowly, his owlish, green eyes are dim tonight, and the circles beneath them stain his skin like ink. He scoffs, “Bet not. Someone’s gonna need me before too long.” Liam hates when he gets like this, so he leans over Harry’s shoulder and gives him a firm but chaste kiss. 

“‘S okay, though, used to it.” He rolls back over and Liam noses the back of his neck. 

“Sleep, for now,” Liam whispers. He let’s himself give into slumber once he hears Harry’s breathing even out.

\--

Liam wakes up to Harry draped completely across his chest. The sun is starting to come in fully through the curtains he’d left wide open last night. He really wants Harry to get some sleep today (for once), but he’s unsure if he can get out of bed gracefully enough to close them without jostling Harry. 

As slowly as possible, he begins to scoot his body away from Harry. It’s not an easy task, considering Harry’s arm is a dead weight over his chest, but with a bit of careful maneuvering, he’s manages to get himself sat on the edge of the bed. 

He stretches his arms above his head, and his back makes a satisfying series of pops. Liam’s first order of business, before he closes the blackout curtains, is to make sure Harry’s phone is set to silent so he doesn’t get awoken by the demands of their team.

When he picks it up off the table, he sees over 20 missed notifications. After a cursory glance to make sure it’s nothing too important, like something from his mum, he moves the ringer to silent.

Liam takes advantage of the natural light in the room and quickly peruses the room service menu. Their morning is free, but their evening is going to pick up, so he figures a big breakfast isn’t a bad idea. Plus, with all the travel, they’ve been eating on the go, and he’s tired of getting his food out of a bag. And, frankly, waffles drenched in syrup sounds pretty amazing. 

He slips into the bathroom with the menu to use the phone in there so he doesn’t disrupt Harry. Liam knows he’s ordering an excessive amount of food, but he can’t be arsed to care. Once he places his order, he moves back into the main room and closes the curtains most of the way, allowing just a tiny bit of light to seep through. 

Harry’s barely moved since he’s gotten up, so Liam takes that as a good sign. He grabs his own phone and settles back down into the bed to check Twitter. He ponders setting up an instagram account, but he’ll just ask Harry to help him later if he can remember. 

After a while, Harry shifts over in his sleep, his forehead resting close to Liam’s thigh. He nuzzles up against his leg, his breath coming out in soft puffs. Liam runs a hand through the curls matted on the back of his head, gently combing them apart, and scratches lightly at his scalp. 

Harry starts to stir just as there is a knock at the door. Liam slides out of bed, and throws on a pair of pants and jogging bottoms (honestly, he can never be too careful nowadays), and takes the cart from the attendant. It’s set to topple over if he’s not careful, but he slowly rolls it towards the bed in one piece.

The noise of clanking plates and glasses causes Harry to pop his head up a bit from where he’d reburied himself under the duvet. 

“Morn—” a yawn overtakes him, and Liam laughs because Harry yawning with bed head looks a lot like Simba. “Ah, morning.” Harry finally gets the word out and smiles up at Liam. “Whatcha got there?”

“Mmm just like a few things. Some of this, some of that.”

Harry rubs at his eyes; they’re puffy from sleep but already brighter than they were last night. “What time ‘s’it?” 

Liam shrugs. “Dunno, and don’t care.” He lifts the covers off some of the plates, and his senses are immediately assaulted with the smell of bacon. 

Harry sits up, wraps the sheet around his torso, and moves closer to the cart as Liam takes the plastic cover off the fruit plate he got specifically for Harry. 

He grins once he notices it. “That for me?”

“Yeah, sorry, no bananas though.” The plastic is sticky, and Liam has a hard time pulling it from his hand. Some of the juice drips off onto his fingers, so he brings the pad of thumb up to his mouth and sucks. 

When he looks back up, Harry’s eyes have narrowed, and he’s watching Liam with interest. 

“Oh no, Haz, none of that.” He laughs and rolls his eyes, sucking the juice off his index finger because he’s a tease apparently. “I got too much food for us to let it all go to waste.” 

“Wanker.” Harry huffs and pulls the sheet tighter around his upper body. “Since we’re having a,” Harry makes highly exaggerated air quotes, “‘serious breakfast’, I shant impunge my bare chest upon your virtue.” He takes the end of the sheet and dramatically drapes it over his shoulder where a peek of skin is still showing. 

“Nuts. You’re absolutely nuts.” 

“Well. You love it, so…” he trails off. He gets up on his knees and shuffles down to the end of the bed where Liam is standing. Then he and rests his chin on Liam’s shoulder.

“Thank you for, you know.” Harry’s tone is rough, but Liam knows this is more than just about the food, and he turns to kiss him.

“You’re welcome.” 

It doesn’t take long before Harry sits down next to him and spears a piece of fruit with his fork. Liam starts digging in, too, cutlery be damned. He’s pulls apart a waffle and dips it in syrup. 

Harry eyes flit between his fruit plate and Liam. “You’re an animal, Payno.”

“But, it’s brilliant right? I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is eating, and yet I haven’t gained any weight.” 

Harry quirks an eyebrow at him and shoots his arm out from his blanket cocoon to poke Liam in the stomach. There is absolutely no give, but Harry teases him anyway. “You sure ‘bout that?” 

Before Harry can even crack a smile, Liam lunges forward and tackles Harry back down on the bed.

He pins him down by his shoulders and slides one leg between Harry’s thighs. “I’m sure.”

Harry’s cheeks are flushed, and Liam would give just about anything to have more mornings like this one. He leans down and puts a finger to Harry’s lips to traces them. 

Harry darts his tongue out and catches the tip of Liam’s finger. It’s sticky sweet from syrup, which makes it even better. 

“Thought you said we needed to eat?”

“Plans change.” Liam kisses him hard—harder than he did last night, now that he knows some of the earlier tension is slipping away from Harry’s body. His lips slide effortlessly in time with Harry’s, and he gently bites down on his bottom lip. Just as Harry’s tongue moves against the seam of his lips, a knock startles them.

“Hey, Li,” Niall’s voice rings out a bit too loud in the hallway. 

“Yeah, Niall?”

“You seen, Harry? I just tried his room and there was no answer, and he didn’t answer my text either.”

Harry immediately whips his head around to look for his phone, but Liam stills him with a gentle hand on his face.

“He probably turned it off, mate. You know he was out last night.”

He hears Niall’s shoes shuffle in front of the door. “Oh. Right, yeah, well, if ya hear from him, let him know I was lookin’ for him. Nothing that can’t wait though.”

“Got it. See you in a few hours, yeah?”

Niall’s voice sounds a bit further away when he responds. “Yeah, a few hours.” Then his voice is a little closer, but a lot softer, “You’re a good man, Liam Payne.”

He hears footsteps retreat down the hallway, and Liam’s cheeks heat at Niall’s words, but before he can say anything, Harry’s surged up, sheet falling from his torso, and he grabs Liam on either side of his face. 

“He’s right you know?” Harry says, not letting Liam answer as he pours every ounce of emotion into kissing him breathless. 

Liam’s whole body instinctively moves closer to him, and Harry just grips him tighter, moving his lips in earnest. 

It’s a messy kiss; the kind where there’s too much of everything, but yet not enough of anything. Liam wraps his fingers around a bit of Harry’s hair and tugs, eliciting a moan out of him that vibrates against Liam’s lips. 

He starts to grind down a bit on Harry’s lap to relieve some of the pressure that’s been building since he woke up with Harry sprawled on top of him. 

Harry brings Liam down until they’re face to face. His hips buck up to meet Liam’s downward thrusts. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks, not actually caring about the answer as his breathing speeds up. 

Liam responds by wedging his leg back between Harry’s thighs and grinds down properly, feeling every hard inch of Harry below him. 

Harry digs his fingers into Liam’s shoulder that’s a bit slick with sweat now and holds on as Liam rolls his hips relentlessly.

“Can you—can you finish like this?” Liam can barely catch his breath as Harry thrusts up again and again. His legs are completely twisted in the sheets causing the perfect amount friction against Liam’s groin. There are one too many layers between them, but they’re both so worked up this morning it might actually work.

“Yeah, c’mon, Li. C’mon.” Harry draws out each word as his fingers slide down to Liam’s arse and grip hard enough to make Liam fumble and lose his rhythm.

“Shit, shit,” Liam cries out as he double his speed, rutting against Harry like they’re two teens back in sixth form. 

Harry pulls him into a bruising kiss and bends his legs at the knee to bracket Liam’s legs on either side.

Both of their movements are erratic and clumsy as they slide against one another. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” Harry breathes out, and Liam watches as Harry finishes, getting his release on his stomach where the sheet slipped down. 

Harry’s eyes are unfocused and glassy. He reaches down, gathering some on his finger, and puts it against Liam’s lips.

Liam sucks his finger greedily. “Harry, fuck!” His hips stutter, and he feels his release hit him like a freight train.

They’re both a bit boneless and a lot overheated. They’re attempting to get their breathing under control when a series of uneven knocks hits the door, and Louis’ voice carries over the top of them. 

“Sorry to bother, but you didn’t answer your phone, and I happened to run into Caroline who was in the hallway and you know how that goes. Next thing I know we’re talking about her daughter, did you know she’s getting a tooth?”

“LOUIS,” Liam interrupts him. “The point?”

“Ah yes, so anyway, Cal, or maybe Ben? I hardly remember now, but one of them needed Harry for something or another, who needs the details? So have you seen Harry? Because I tried to call him and he didn’t answer and…”

“NO!” Both Liam and Harry shout at the same time. 

“Wait was that Harold? I think that was…”

“For fuck’s sake, Tommo. I’ll let him know you were looking for him alright?” Harry’s bark of laughter erupts from his chest, faster than he can cover his mouth to keep it from escaping.

“Well, fine, if that’s how you’re both going to be. One of you better be ready to let me win in _FIFA_ later, that’s all I’m going to say. Ta, gentlemen.”

Louis finally leaves them alone, and Harry’s subsequent grin is infectious. 

“Round two?” Harry asks, his voice thick with lust.

“Round two,” Liam replies as he flips them over. The world can wait.


End file.
